The Racialization of Face Masks

From cultural dirt to social responsibility, our societal perception of face coverings affects how we see one another—and ourselves.

Image credit: Photo by  Anna Shvets  from  Pexels

By Hannah Ting

Face masks have gained an unprecedented salience in the lives of people worldwide. To comply with health protocols issued by authorities in response to COVID-19, wearing face masks or coverings in public has become increasingly commonplace. In the U.S., what once was used exclusively in medical and industrial settings is now worn in everyday situations.

Despite the growing prevalence of face masks, we must not overlook how masks have been associated negatively with Asian peoples in particular. This association was reinforced by media coverage of COVID-19, especially in the early stages of the outbreak in America. Consequently, face masks have played a role in the rise of racialized incidents against Asian Americans.

The face mask is not a neutral object. It is an artifact embedded within the reality of a global pandemic and the cultural context of American society. By deconstructing how the face mask operates as a symbol, we can better understand the cultural implications of masks for Asian Americans. 

1. The face mask indicates the presence of danger.

The surgical face mask serves as a universal icon of the COVID-19 pandemic. The image of the mask effectively communicates the severity of our current crisis as well as the widespread anxiety surrounding it.

Prior to COVID-19, wearing face masks in public wasn’t a normalized practice in Western countries. In an anthropological study I conducted this spring, many of my American-born interviewees said they felt a sense of “apocalypse” or “dystopia ” when they first wore masks. For them, seeing people walking around sporting masks (especially the surgical kind) is unsettling because it violates previous social conventions.

The mask, an instrument of protection, points to the existence of outside danger. The threat of COVID-19—a dangerous, alien disease—must be mitigated. And with the high volume of masks being worn in a country that’s unfamiliar with public mask-wearing, we are acutely aware that something is wrong in our world.

Inherently, the mask doesn’t pose risk to anyone. The coronavirus is obviously the real source of danger. But media depictions affiliate the mask with COVID-19, such that people who wear masks are associated with the virus. This phenomenon is described in sociology professor Harris Ali’s 2003 study of the SARS outbreak in Toronto: “the mask…became a type of universal stigma symbol—a ‘mark’—that conveyed a ‘spoiled identity’… the masked face served as a foreboding symbol that…embod[ied] the disease and its spread…”[1]

Anthropologist Mary Douglas would characterize the masked face as cultural “dirt.” According to her theory of symbolic pollution, an anomaly—dirt—in an established system of order possesses a “polluting” characteristic. In Purity and Danger (1966), she articulates what happens in reaction to the polluting person, object, or idea: “A polluting person is always in the wrong. He has…crossed some line which should not have been crossed and this displacement unleashes danger for someone.”[2]

The polluting entity—the masked face—is “marked” as dangerous and worthy to be feared.

2. Asian Americans are framed racially to indicate the presence of danger. 

In Risk and Blame (1992), Douglas addresses how the marginalized are often scapegoated in times of crisis. The public’s perception of danger exacerbates inequalities already existing in society: “The poor who carry the brunt often carry the blame for epidemic disaster… Fear of danger tends to strengthen the lines of division in a community… the response to a major crisis digs more deeply the cleavages that have been there all the timeIf there is violent xenophobia, the foreigners will be blamed ” (emphasis added).[3]

Does this sound familiar?

Asian Americans are historically and currently treated as “perpetual foreigners.” Collectively, people of Asian descent in America navigate a racialized identity that prevents a sense of secure belonging in one’s own country.

Emerging in the late nineteenth century, Yellow Peril ideology fueled an era of pervasive, blatant, and institutionalized racism targeting Asian communities. Unlike their white counterparts, Asian immigrants and their families were scornfully regarded as the inferior, unassimilable Other in American society.[4] Today, Asian Americans still embody an “inferior outsider” status. Even if commended for being the “model minority,” they remain too foreign, too “exotically different from Whites” to be considered truly American.[5]

The Asian American is an alien on American soil.

Since China has been assigned culpability for the current pandemic, COVID-19 has been associated with people of Asian descent. Subsequently, Asian Americans are framed as “dangerous virus carriers,” magnifying their existing alienation.

The alien is stigmatized.

3. The masked Asian person is “double-marked” as dangerous.

As COVID-19 started to spread across America, face masks were slow to appear. In mid-February and March, U.S. Surgeon General Jerome Adams and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) actively discouraged the general public from wearing surgical face masks, concerned about PPE shortages for frontline workers. It wasn’t until early April that an updated CDC recommendation advised people to wear cloth face coverings even when healthy.

Asian communities in America didn’t wait that long. Before COVID-19, wearing face masks in public was common in many Asian countries for reasons beyond preventing contagion (e.g. air pollution). Based on surveys and interviews I conducted, as well as my observations, I found that Asians were more likely to wear masks compared to non-Asians early in the outbreak.

A masked person is considered dangerous. But if the individual is Asian, he or she is considered especially dangerous. The masked Asian face is “double-marked.”

The heightened perception of threat held by non-Asian peoples may lead to racist attacks against those of Asian descent. Asian Americans have felt hesitant about wearing masks for fear of being targets of racism. Pastor Ray Chang, President of AACC, has navigated this “to wear or not to wear” dilemma. “It’s a lose-lose situation,” he explained to me, recounting himself feeling unsafe with or without a mask. “I’m more afraid to experience racism than getting the virus.”[6]

From Stigma to Solidarity

Confusion around face masks was prevalent early in the outbreak, especially when few people were using them. Such confusion prevails today. Some think mask wearers are selfish and gullible for trying to protect themselves despite scientific speculation that non-medical-grade masks do little to prevent illness. But with asymptomatic transmission as a rising concern, more people are realizing that masks are primarily for protecting others over oneself.

The former conceptualization of mask wearing as a self-centered choice led to stigma. However, the dominant narrative is now transforming to emphasize the altruistic merit of mask wearing: it is an act of civic duty and solidarity.

In a time of uncertainty, fear is inevitable. We tend to go into self-defense mode, scanning for the presence of danger around us. Ultimately, we are inclined to detect external dangers rather than internal danger. Even Christians, despite understanding humanity’s common status as sinners (Rom. 3:23), are quick to find fault with others (Matt. 7:1-5) while ignoring our own shortcomings. Rarely are we prompt to confront the polluting sin in our own hearts—the evil that threatens to kill us from the inside out.

Similarly, the cultural shift toward viewing mask wearing as socially responsible enables us to recognize that we are a potential threat to others as an asymptomatic carrier. The danger resides within us and isn’t so “foreign” after all.

As our nation and world continue to navigate this crisis together, I pray that the church will grow in our demonstration of holy, neighborly love, allying with Asian Americans and other peoples of color in their unique struggles. I hope the face mask will no longer be a symbol of stigmatization. By God’s grace, may more people become inspired to embrace face masks as a symbol of solidarity, hope, and healing.

Sources:

1. Ali, S. Harris. 2008. “Stigmatized Ethnicity, Public Health, and Globalization.” Canadian Ethnic Studies 40 (3): 43–64. https://doi.org/10.1353/ces.2008.0002.

2. Alexander, Jeffrey C., and Steven Seidman. 1990. Culture and Society: Contemporary Debates. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press.

3. Douglas, Mary. 1992. Risk and Blame: Essays in Cultural Theory (version: Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2003). London: Routledge.

4. Takaki, Ronald T. 1990. Strangers from a Different Shore: A History of Asian Americans. Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books.

5. Chou, Rosalind S., and Joe R. Feagin. 2010. The Myth of the Model Minority: Asian Americans Facing Racism. Boulder: Paradigm Publishers.

6.  Interview with Pastor Raymond Chang, April 21, 2020.

Image credit: Anna Shvets from Pexels


Hannah Ting Headshot.JPG

Hannah Ting is a proud child of ethnically Chinese, immigrant parents from Malaysia. She graduated from Wheaton College in 2020 with a BA in anthropology and communication with a media studies emphasis. Currently, she resides with her family in Michigan and immensely looks forward to the post-COVID-19 era. In the meantime, she enjoys karaoke, playing piano, learning Japanese, watching documentaries, and being a food enthusiast. Follow her on LinkedIn.